Words That Create Darkness
by MaliciousMoanna
Summary: Sam and Dean have forever been my friend and my superheroes. After Chriselle buys a curious little statue, our wish is fulfilled. What could be in store?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters, except for Lilliana and Chriselle.

**~*~ Chapter 1 - Words Create Darkness ~*~**

"Come on, we're gonna be late!" I yell at my best friend, Chriselle.

"I know already!"

We are running down the street, on our way home from the school library after finishing our homework. It's Friday, so I'm going to sleep at Chris's house tonight.

"I swear, if I ever miss a single episode of Supernatural thanks to you-"

"Not everyone is as fit as you, you know!" she gasps, terribly out of breath.

"Well, they could be if they stopped stealing their mothers' cookie ingredients and started jogging around the block with me," I snap, also out of breath, but not as much.

"Where's the fun in that?"

It's almost dark. We had lost track of time in our masses of homework, and now we have only six minutes until the episode of Supernatural starts. We only started with Season 8 a few days ago: not the best, but Sam and Dean are as hot as ever. If they were crammed into the Twilight movies, I would even watch those. Twilight would be so much better if Sam and Dean were in it: they could kill Edward's sparkly ass.

"Lil, slow down a little, would you?" Chris gasps from behind me.

"We're almost at your house, and there are only a few more minutes left!"

Seconds later, we turn around a corner and burst in through the front door of the first house. Predictably, no one is in the house: Chriselle's mother works three quarters of her life and sleeps for the rest; her father ensures there's food on the table, but he's in his study the rest of the time, working from the house as a short-story writer for several different magazines.

Chris, bent over and gasping for air, lazily picks up the television remote and switches it on and to the channel where Supernatural is due to start. We missed the intro, but are more than happy to continue watching.

We watch epidsode 8 of season 8 where Castiel decides to become a Hunter, laughing ourselves hoarse when he smells the dead guy and detects a scent of recent bladder infection. Afterwards, we go up to Chris's bedroom, chatting for a few hours, catching up with things that happened to each of us in class. She tells me about a new statue she bought and shows it to me: it's a small but beautiful white hand-sized statue of a fairy sitting above her bed.

"Where'd you get it from?" I ask, taking it and examining it for a few moments.

"My dad and I went to town yesterday. There's a new shop that opened up near Mr. Price. The woman who works there is really creepy. She looks like Trelawny from Harry Potter. Bangles, massive glasses, the works. Anyway, she sold me this for R10 and told me that it would bring me one wish if I deeply desire it."

"And you believe that?" I ask incredulously, putting it back over her bed.

"No, I'm not an idiot. The fairy's just beautiful, don't you think?"

"Yeah, she is."

"So, say this poppycock about this fairy is true, and she really can grant one wish, who would you choose, between Sam and Dean?" Chris asks me.

"I'd wish for them both, hire a real witch and cram Dean's personality into Sam's body," I say, "You can't ask a question like that. It's blasphemy."

She laughs, "I'd totally go for Dean. Or maybe even Cas. He's also hot as hell."

"Have you noticed that they've never hunted fairytale stuff, like fairies?" I ask, glancing at the fairy statue again.

"Well, if they could, they would, but Edward Cullen doesn't really exist."

I snort with laughter, "But seriously, can you imagine Dean's face when they crack a case and it turns out to be an actual fairy, palm-sized, pink dress and glitter galore?"

We laugh.

"Or even mermaids," she says, "They've never considered mermaids, either. Those aren't always good. There's a lot of lore about them all over the world. Some say they're good, some say they just lure people with their voices and their good looks so that they can eat them and sacrifice the victim's heart to their gods. That could make a pretty bad-ass episode, don't you think?"

"Wouldn't it be cool if we could be Hunters along with them?" I ask.

"Yeah, just for a short while ..."

"I wish we could just solve one case with them," we say together. We laugh, but just as we're about to start chorusing 'Jinx!', everything turns dark. All the lights go out. Even the streetlights outside, and several miles in diameter until even the horizon is pitch black.

"What the hell?" Chris asks.

The lights go back on. We stare at each other for a few moments, laugh, and continue our conversation, not noticing the small smile that appeared on the fairy statue's face.  
_

**A/N**: If you're familiar with my work, then you'll know the first chapter of my fics are always super short. It's just an introduction, after all.

R&R please!

XD


	2. Chapter 2

**~*~ Chapter 1 - Angelic Humour ~*~**

When I wake up, I half think that Chris had pushed me off the bed. Again. I am lying on something cold and hard, but rough. Not like the smooth, tiled floor of her bedroom. I open my eyes.

I am lying in the dumpster, behind an unfamiliar white and blue building on an unfamiliar street. A groan makes me look sideways, and Chris comes into view. The pain in both my neck and my arm tell me that this is not likely a dream.

I start panicking.

"Dude, wake up!" I hiss at Chris. She stirs, but does not wake.

What if we were kidnapped? And our kidnappers drugged us and ...

I grope at my clothes, but everything is still intact. There are no bruises and my legs do not hurt, like they've been wrenched open. I am still wearing my pyjamas: black pants, purple and white striped socks and a black vest. I calm down the faintest bit. I examine my surroundings carefully. It looks so strangely familiar.

"Wake the hell up!" I hiss at Chris again, lifting her hand and throwing it on the ground.

"Ow, dude, what the hell!" I groans, clutching her wrist. "Did you friggin kick me off the bed?"

"If you open your eyes, you'll notice that we're not anywhere near your bed," I snap.

"What're you talking about?" she asks, sitting up, rubbing her eyes and opening them. She looks about groggily for a few moments before asking, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" I say defensively, "Does any of this look familiar to you?"

She shakes her head, "Nope."

"Come on, it looks as though we're near a gas station," I say, watching one car exiting the lot just as another enters, "Let's go get some answers."

I help her up and we head around the building to the front. I frown. It seems awfully familiar. A big sign near the gas pumps read: "Big Ryan's Gas 'n Sip".

"Hey, Chris," I say slowly, "Does this look familiar to you?"

She nods slowly. Just as I am about to head for the door into the shop, I notice something. Near one of the gas pumps stands a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, a car I would recognise absolutely anywhere. But it was not the car that caught my attention, it was the two men standing near it.

Instinctively, I look around for cameras to see if someone is shooting for a very specific television series. Dumbass, I think to myself, they've already made this episode, if this is really happening.

"Is that who I think it is?" Chris asks from beside me.

None other than Sam is sitting on the back of the car, talking on his phone, while Castiel is leaning against the front, reading a newspaper. Dean just came out of the shop holding two beers in one hand.

"Yup," I say, hurrying forward.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chris asks, nearly jogging to keep up.

"Don't you get it?" I ask her, "This most certainly is not a dream. That much is clear. Then there's only one other explanation. That stupid little statue of yours actually worked. We said that we want to solve a case with the Winchesters, then the lights went out for no reason less than a second later. That seems pretty weird, right?"

"But I don't wanna solve this case with them," she whines just as we come to a stop, hiding behind the gas pump, "We watched this last night. It's already been solved."

"Well, we weren't very specific with the wish, were we?" I retort. Just to be sure, to be absolutely certain, I pinch myself on the arm as hard as I can. Except for an ass-load of pain, everything seemed normal.

"Just had to be sure, didn't you?" Chris says, "What if this was a dream, and you just forced yourself to wake up?"

"I've had plenty of similar dreams. It wouldn't have really been a loss," I say, peeking from the side of the gas pump. Sam had just given the phone to Dean, who pretended to be excited to talk to the person on the other end, but put the phone down and walked away.

"Que, 'what's the word, Cas?'" Chris says with a grin.

Sure enough: "What's the word, Cas?"

"It's a shortened version of my name," Cas tells Dean, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Shouldn't we tell them that we're here?" Chris asks, "Introduce ourselves? Anything? I mean, this is a little creepy."

"You really think they'll believe us?"

"Maybe they will," she says, "I mean, Gabriel sent them to our universe once, remember? Well, kinda. In the series. Maybe they will believe us."

"Let's just wait until they're about to get in the car," I say. She nods. We peek around the gas pump again.

"I'm gonna become a Hunter," Cas tells Dean with a grin, and we softly snort with laughter at the expression on Dean's face.

"This is even better in real life," Chris whispers.

"Really?" Sam asks.

"Yeah," Cas replies, "I could be your third wheel."

"You know that's not a good thing, right?" Dean says.

"Of course it is," Cas replies, "A third wheel adds extra grip, greater stability. I even found a case."

"This is so cool," Chris whispers.

"Oh, yeah," I say, "Come on, it's now or never."

"You're gonna stick with us, alright?" Dean tells Cas, "None of this 'zapping around' crap. Capische?"

"Yeah, I capische," Cas says.

"Alright then," Dean says, heading around the car to get into the driver's seat.

"Before we go," Cas says deliberately just as I was about to get out of my hiding spot. I frown. "Someone has been spying on us for the last several minutes."

I feel my legs become numb, but there's no point in hiding anymore. I take Chris's hand and we stand up straight, walking into sight.

"Who are you?" Cas asks us.

"I'm Lilliana Stayne, and this is my friend Chriselle Smith," I say.

"Why were you spying on us?" Dean asks.

"Well, I-"

"Could we work on this case with you guys?" Chris interrupts. I roll my eyes. Damn it.

Dean and Sam both snort with laughter, and Dean says, "I don't think so. Are your parents Hunters or what?"

"Come on," Chris presses, "We have a working knowledge of all kinds of creatures."

"And how, may I ask, did you get this knowledge?" Sam asks.

"Well-"

"Ok, we'll just tell you the truth," I say before she can speak, "Do you remember when Gabriel sent you through that window one time, and you ended up in a dimension when you were Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles?"

"How do you know that?" Dean demands. I can see he's getting annoyed.

"We're from that dimension," I say, "In our world, your lives are on a TV show called Supernatural. We know of every case you've cracked so far. From the ghost chick with the white dress right up until you saved Kevin Tran and Cas snapped the Demon Tablet in half not too long ago. We know everything."

"Oh, for crying out loud, as if having a book series isn't enough in _this_ dimension or whatever, now they went and made a friggin TV series in another dimension?" Dean snapped, "What're the angels playing at?"

"The angels have no power over what goes on in the dimension they are talking about," Cas says, then he frowns, "None of the angels here, anyway."

"So how did you end up here?" Sam asks me.

"We don't really know," I say, "Ever since it started, we've been fans of the two of you, and a few other characters. We always wished we could be Hunters with you, and, well, here we are."

"We just woke up over there," Chris says, pointing at the small gap between the shop and the adjacent wall, and I roll my eyes.

"So, can we come with?" I ask hopefully.

"Well, it's a little crowded, so why don't you try to get a hold of some other Hunters, or an angel or-"

"There's plenty of room in the Impala, if I could just-"

"I told you, no zapping around," Dean says deliberately, cutting Cas short.

"I could sit on Cas's lap," Chris says with a grin.

"No, I don't think so," Cas says, his eyes wide with what I can only identify as fear.

"They might be able to help, Dean," Sam says, "If they know everything that we know, possibly even more, they might-"

"How old are you, anyway?" Dean asks us.

"Seventeen," we chorus.

"Great," Dean says, rounding on Sam again, "So you're actually considering taking a pair of _seventeen year old girls_-"

"Don't be racist," Chris says, "I would think that Jo-"

I elbow her in the ribs, but it's too late. The damage has been done. The look on Dean's face says as much.

"If you know about her, then you know what happened to her while she was helping us out the last time," Sam says solemnly, "Do either of you have any experience with ... well, anything?"

"I take Karate," Chris says brightly, "I have since I was a kid."

"Look," I say, "Can't Cas just take us to a dimension, or come into our minds, somewhere where time is different, and teach us basic combat? There must be some way we can learn to help you. We really want to."

"I can link all of your minds and bring you inside mine, if that would help-"

"Thank you, Cas," Dean says deliberately, "Fine, get in. But I'm warning you, this is a bad idea."

"Can I at least ride in the front seat?" Cas says, walking toward the door hopefully.

"No," Dean and Sam say together, just as Sam pushes him out of the way. Chris and I both snort with laughter.

One by one, we file into the car: Cas first, this Chris, and I get in behind Sam's seat.

"I'm sorry to be impertinent, but would you guys mind buying us some clothes?" Chris asks, "We kinda came here in our pyjamas."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm sure Sam would love to go with you guys. You can go buy hair accessories for him while you're at it," Dean says.

Oh yeah.

**A/N:** Yup, I know what you are all thinking: "Seriously, she's writing about a case that's already been solved? Predictable!" Just stick to the story, all right? It'll get better, I swear.

Don't forget to R&R please! XD


	3. Chapter 3

**~*~ Chapter 3 - Wabbit Season ~*~**

Dean really makes Sam take us to buy clothes while he did 'research' on their case at a pub in Oklahoma. We remember from the previous night that the case only took a few days, so we decide that each of us should pick two shirts, a skirt and shorts with sandals and a set of pyjamas each: all my things are black.

"I'm sorry Dean made you do this," I say. I just picked the first nice, black things that I saw, but Chris is extensively searching every nook and cranny of the shop.

"Oh, it's no trouble," he replies, but his face betrays him.

"Just out of curiosity, why did you grow your hair out?" I ask.

"I don't know, really," he says, clearly uncomfortable, "Just wanted some kind of change, I guess."

"I see," I say. Chris holds up two skirts in front of her, looking at the left, then the right, and back again. "Oh, for the love of God,_ just pick one!_"

"All right, already!" she says, taking the left and walking toward us. She only picked beige and gold clothing.

"We're ready," I tell Sam, trying to make him feel less uncomfortable, but knowing that that is not going to be easy. He pays for our clothes and takes us to a nearby gas station so that we can change.

I put on the black skirt I bought with the silver chain in the place of a belt with a sleeveless shirt with dainty silver patterns in the corner, and black and silver sandals. Chris puts on the cream-coloured shorts she bought with small pink hearts on the one side and a beige top with only one sleeve, along with her golden sandals.

When we arrive at a motel, Dean is already waiting in the lobby along with Cas.

"Listen, you two have to stay here for a bit, ok?" Sam says, "We - uh - we have some work to do."

"Sure," I say. "Hey, wait, can I borrow your laptop, please?"

"Why?"

"Research," I say simply. Sam looks at Dean uncomfortably, and I press, "Look, if I wanted to steal anything from you guys, I would've done so ages ago. I swear I won't watch your porn or go through any of your pictures, all right?"

"I don't - have - porn," Sam says, laughing uncomfortably. Dean snorts and heads for the car, and Cas follows. "Fine, just hang on."

Sam goes back to the car and brings his computer back before booking a room for us alongside theirs before leaving. Sam hands us the clothes we bought, and they're off.

"Can you remember what they're going to do all day?" Chris asks me as we fall down on the beds.

I think for a moment, counting off on my fingers, "If I remember correctly, they're gonna examine the body of the guy whose heart jumped out-"

"Cas, sniffing the bladder infection," she snorts, and I can't help but chuckle too.

"Then they're gonna interrogate the dead guy's wife, and then there's gonna be that guy who commits suicide later," I finish.

"The one who floats until he looks down, and then falls?" she asks. I nod. "They aren't gonna be back till nightfall, are they?"

"Yeah," I say, "Dean could've at least left us with John's journal, or given us something to practice or ... or anything."

"You don't think that fairy of mine is really only giving us this case with Sam and Dean, do you?" she asks, clearly disappointed.

"Seems like it," I say, "But we can't be sure till it's finished. For now, we might as well enjoy uncapped internet while we can."

For the entire day, Chris and I do research on all the different kinds of creatures Sam and Dean haven't hunted yet, but there were so many that we grew bored and started watching videos on YouTube. A hour or two after dark, not even those were entertaining anymore, and we resorted to complaining about the fairy's crap wish-granting skills.

Eventually, I heard three familiar voices in the hall outside, but they were hushed and urgent. I signal for Chris to shut up. We each take empty glasses that we drank water out of, placed them the wrong way around on the wall, and pressed our ears to the edge.

"What if they're demons?" Dean asks, "The perfect cover would be a pair of innocent-looking seventeen year olds."

"They're not demons," Cas says.

"Maybe they're humans, _working_ with the demons. Maybe Crowley intimidated them into spying on us, or even brainwashed them."

"I would have smelled the sulfur on them."

"Dean, why are you so convinced that they are a threat to us?" Sam asks.

"Look, I don't trust anyone, all right?" he says simply, "I'm just trying to keep us safe."

"I would have sensed if they meant us harm," Cas says, "If I am any judge, then they are telling the truth."

"You two go on ahead, I'm just gonna tell them we're back," Sam says. Panic-stricken, we lower the glasses, run and fall onto the beds as quietly but fast as we can. There are three knocks on the door just as we place the glasses on the bedside cabinets.

"Yeah?" I call. Sam enters.

"Hey, we're back," he says, "I just wanna get my laptop back."

"So, how'd it go with the investigation?" I say, knowing but just trying to make conversation.

"Well, the victim had an affair just before he died but that - uh - was already a known fact to the wife," Sam says. I smile a bit despite myself, "And another man commited suicide, but two witnesses stated that he hung in the air for several seconds, looked down, and then fell."

"Whoa, that's _weird_, just like something out of a cartoon," I say, and I see Chris struggling to keep her face straight.

"Yeah, uhm, that's what we thought, too," Sam says with a frown, "Anyway, good night."

"Night," we chorus. Just as he closes the door behind him, both of us have a fit of laughter. A few minutes later, we hear the faint sounds of Cayote and the Roadrunner from the room next door: Cas watching cartoons to try and understand them. I roll my eyes and we go to bed.

I haven't even properly fallen asleep when I hear the Winchesters' door open and hurried footsteps out of the building.

"Bank robbery," I mumble sleepily. Seriously, it's so boring to know what's going to happen. I half hope that, when I wake up, it'll just have been a dream. Chris groans in agreement, and we fall asleep.

The following morning, I wake up, still in the motel room. I sigh just as there are a few knocks on the door, and Sam enters.

"Hey, good morning, we're going to a retirement home," he says, "Wanna come?"

"Sure," I say, "Just give us a few minutes."

He nods and closes the door. I wake Chris up and we get ready, putting on our only other outfit, and go to the retirement home with the brothers and Cas. Chris follows Cas wherever he goes, even when he interrogates the cat, but I stick to Sam, until they get thrown out because Cas couldn't keep his mouth shut.

A few hours later, Cas calls Dean with the news that one of the women in the home's birthday cake blew up. Chris and I get dumped in the motel again for the rest of the day while the brothers head off to the bank to stop the home's caretaker from using the Psychokenetic's powers to break in.

The following morning, we follow Sam and Dean again back to the home, where Cas reveals that he does not want to be a Hunter anymore, and we hit the road again.

All the way, I try to look for another place on Sam's laptop where something might be happening that's out of the ordinary. There must be a reason why Chris and I are still here. Finally, after four hours of driving, eating, pointless conversation, ongoing research and Dean's attitude in real life, I have something.

"Hey, guys," I say. Chris is asleep with her face pressed against the window. "I think I found us a case."

"You, seventeen year old girl from another dimension, found us a case?" Dean asks.

"Don't be condescending," I snap, "Salem, Massechusetts. Two bodies in two different locations within Salem. Both were killed in their homes. No sign of forced entry, but a hole in the wall and the sewage pipes within. Weird, much?"

"Give me that," Sam says, taking the computer and examining the list of newspaper articles that I compiled in a Word document.

"Oh, and something else," I say, "Both victims were overweight."

"I doubt that's relevant," Dean snaps.

"In your experience, you must have realised that nothing is irrelevant," I snap back.

"This does look like our kind of thing, Dean," Sam says.

"Oh, fine," he says, "We're near Mass anyway. If we weren't, I wouldn't have gone."

I smirk. Yay. A good case, and one that hasn't been solved yet.

**A/N:** The stuff that are on the 'internet' in my fic isn't necessarily really, so please don't fall for that lol. I just thought of the story, looked for a town that fit, and started

Don't forget to R&R please!

XD


	4. Chapter 4

**~*~ Chapter 4 - Salem, Massechusetts ~*~**

Not knowing anything about America, I couldn't really judge whether the town of Salem was big, small, remarkable or just ordinary. I didn't comment on anything as we drove, as opposed to Chris, who was like a dog that had never been on a walk. She wanted to enter every shop and touch every statue, much to Dean's annoyance. Everyone had, by this time, merely resorted to ignoring her.

"Ok, so where were the killings?" Dean asks.

Luckily, I had seen photos of the houses while doing my research. "The first was in Thorndike street and the other in Ames street."

"And you assume that I know this town's streets off by heart?"

"Well, you two are the Americans!"

"Well, then, where the hell were you, in that other dimension, if not in the US?"

"SA!"

"What?"

"South Africa, dumbass."

"You mean-"

"The southern tip of Africa, yes, dumbass."

"Don't call me friggin-"

"Dean," Sam says warningly. Dean glares at his brother, but otherwise says nothing. I smirk.

After a few minutes of searching, we finally stop in front of the house of the first victim. Just as I'm about to get out of the car, Dean stops me.

"Hey, no kids in the grown-ups' workplace," he tells me.

"I'm the one who found us the case!" I say, outraged.

"Yes, you're the one who gave me more work, so there's no way that you're getting your cookies," he replies sourly, "Stay in the damn car."

I sink back into the seat with my arms crossed just as Sam gets out and, after an apologetic look, follows Dean to the front door.

"Dick," Chris mumbles.

We wait impatiently for the two men to finish interrogating whoever else lives in the house. When they come back, they look fairly flustered, but confused mostly. Dean has a hint of sourness in his expression.

"Well, you were right," Sam tells me as he gets in the car, "This is weird. His wife's the only other person in the house. She said she saw the whole thing. There was water leaking from a crack in the wall. When her husband went to check it, hands came out of the wall and pulled him inside the sewage pipes. The police didn't want to hear a word of all that, of course."

"But how would an overweight person fit into the sewage pipes?" I ask.

"He wouldn't," Dean says, "Not in one piece, anyway."

"So, what do you think it was?" I ask.

"No way to tell," Sam replies, "No sulfur, EMF or hex bags. But it's something that likes water."

Chris pulls a face in disgust, and I just stay silent. This is, after all, what we signed up for when we made our wish.

"Time for victim number two," Dean says, "Ames street, did you say?"

"This time I wanna come with," I say.

"Nope."

"Come on, man!" Chris begs, "You can just say that you're babysitting."

"Yes, because then the survivor would be totally up for spilling the beans on what happened," Dean says sarcastically.

"Ok, how about this," Sam tells me, "After we question the second victim's relatives, I'll go make you guys a few fake ID's and, should there be another victim, you can come with us."

"Really?" Chris asks brightly while Dean glares at his brother. "That's so cool!"

"Thanks," I say.

Chris and I are left in the car while they enter the house of the second victim. Here, there is still yellow tape surrounding the building.

"Why don't we just sneak in?" Chris asks.

"Because then they'll trust us even less," I say, "You know Sam. As long as we behave, he'll treat us like he would anyone else."

She stays quiet, but with a sour face. When the two brothers return, they come back with the same story. Only this time, it was the victim's nine year old daughter who saw the whole thing, so it was a little more difficult to get the story out of her. There was a crack in the wall with water leaking out of it. Her father wanted to cover it up with a cloth, then hands burst through the wall and pulled him inside.

We book two rooms at the nearest motel and, after taking a few different pictures of each Chris and myself, they leave the motel again to print the ID's. Sam was kind enough to let me borrow his laptop again. When I sit down at the desk, Chris falls down on the bed.

"Hey, get your ass over here and help me," I say irritably.

"Why?"

"Because you wanted this, too!" I say.

"But if we crack the case too quickly, then there won't be enough time for Dean to fall for me!"

"He's ten years older than you!"

"Age is just a number!"

"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes and opening the laptop. I surf the web for almost an hour, going through everything the town has to offer about its own history. Eventually, Sam and Dean return, and they hand us our ID's along with a pair of very professional-looking black female outfits.

"Ew," Chris says, "What the hell is this?"

"A suit, for women," Dean says, "Most of your ID's say that you're FBI, so you'll need these.

"Find anything?" Sam asks me as Chris continues looking at the outfits in disgust.

"Not really," I say, "The only thing weird in this town is the witch trials in the late 1600's, but you said that there weren't any hex bags in the houses. There wasn't enough time for me to dig deeper."

"Well, evidently, it's something that likes to travel by water," Sam says.

"So?" Dean snaps, "This town is surrounded by water. There's a lake nearby and a beach."

"Dean, you're not helping," Sam says.

"Whatever, I'm going to my room," he says, rolling his eyes and leaving. Chris trails after him, but I just roll my eyes.

"What do you think?" I ask Sam as he sits down.

"All I can say for sure is that we're not dealing with anything witchy or to do with demons," he says, shaking his head slowly.

"Have you ever considered ... no, nevermind," I say, feeling stupid for bringing it up.

"Spit it out," he says.

"Well ... mermaids?" I ask. There is an instant change is his expression, so to keep myself from looking like an idiot, I go on, "The most famous story is that they're beautiful women who lure sailors into the water to eat them. But there is lore about them all over the world: Babylon, Syria, China, Japan, Greece, Rome, Europe, and each place has a different story. Just ... consider it."

"You make a valid point, but there's never been tale of a Hunter encountering a mermaid," he says. I can see that he thinks that I'm insane.

"Well, there was never tale about Hunters encountering angels, either, yet you're friends with Cas, you were tricked by Gabriel. Maybe it's something similar. Gabriel pretended to be a Trickster for several years. Maybe there's been merfolk all along, they've just disguised themselves all this time."

He gives that famous Sammy-Thinks-You're-Insane smile before saying, "Thank you for all your effort. I'll see you in the morning."

I decide not to press the matter and make a further fool of myself. Sam takes his computer and leaves. Just as he opens the door, Chris enters with a sour face. Sam closes the door behind him just as I get up and fall down on my bed. Chris does the same.

"Where were you?" I ask.

"With Dean."

"Are you out of your mind?" I snort, "You know him."

"Just go to sleep. I don't wanna talk about it."

I smirk, but say nothing. I close my eyes to try and sleep, but just as I start to drift off, Sam bursts back into the door.

"Two other people have been killed," he tells us, "Put your suits on and meet us downstairs."

"Ok," I say, and Sam gets out.

Overcome with excitement, I get up and start putting on the suit as fast as I can. Chris is very dispirited as she puts her on I pile my hair up in a bun and Chris just pins her fringe out of her eyes. We clip our ID's onto the collars and hurry downstairs.

"Women," Dean says, shaking his head while we walk to the car, "You know, we've been waiting for you down there for almost two minutes."

"Not my fault," I snap, glaring at Chris.

"Wait," Sam tells me, "One of the murders isn't far from here. Dean and Chris will go to the other. You and I can walk."

I nod, and we start walking down the road. One glance told me that Chris was all too glad to go alone with Dean.

"How did you know about the vics?" I ask.

"Cas came to us to tell us that Fred's doing well," he says, "Then he heard it on the police radio. He just told us about the vics and then he zapped off somewhere again."

"Doesn't it piss you off when he does that?" I ask.

"In the beginning, it did, but you kinda grow used to it," he says. We walk for a few more blocks until blue and red lights come into few. We walk toward the house surrounded by yellow tape just as two men carry a body on a stretcher toward an ambulance.

Sam fancily opens up an ID book and tells one of the paramedics, "Special Agent Lee, this is Special Agent Clyde. Mind if we take a look at the body?"

The man nods and lifts the cloth covering the body. It is a young woman, possibly in her late twenties. There is an ugly blue and purple bruise all over her neck and the side of her head. I fight the urge to pull a face in disgust. It looked as though her skull was cracked inward right in front of the ear.

"This caused a lot of internal bleeding on the brain," the paramedic says, "We were already too late when we got here."

"Ok, thank you," Sam says.

I follow him up a small flight of stairs, bend under the yellow tape that Sam lifts up for me, and approach a few police officers. Sam introduces our fake indentities again.

"What happened?" he asks when he finished.

"Don't really know," he says, "Layla and Jane Jefferson lived here, along with Jane's seven year old daughter. Jane is missing, and when we got here, Layla was lying on the floor with an ugly bruise on her head, right underneath a mother of a hole inside the wall and into the pipes. Doesn't make any sense."

"And the girl called the police?" Sam asks. The officer nods.

"Yep. According to the neighbours, she's always been obsessed with mermaids. She told us that's what came out of the wall. But after that, she wouldn't say another word. She just hides in the corner of the upstairs hallway."

"Would you mind if we take a look inside?" Sam asks. I glare at him deliberately, but he just shakes his head once.

"Go ahead, but I doubt you'll find anything you want to see."

I follow Sam to the front door.

"What do you think could have done something like that?" I ask, referring to the bruise on the woman's head.

"There are so many possibilities, but I'm scared to start counting them off," he replies.  
_

**A/N:** All the events of this case is in the Supernatural dimension, so there would be no record of them in ours. Just so that some loose ends are cleared out.

Don't forget to R&R please!

XD


	5. Chapter 5

**~*~ Chapter 5 - Heads or Tails ~*~**

When we enter the house, all we see is a few officers here and there, some trying to find fingerprints, others trying to figure out among themselves what it could have been that killed Layla Jefferson. Sam finds his way to the kitchen. My eyes widen and I freeze where I stand.

On the opposite wall, there is a seven foot long hole in the wall, growing slimmer to the left and then wide again at the tip. There is blood everywhere. The position in which Layla was found has been taped off. An officer is taking photos in several different angles. I notice a fat finger lying underneath the hole in the wall.

That does it. I feel my stomach churning, threatening to push my last meal up. Holding my hand to my mouth, I exit the kitchen just as I hear Sam say, "She's new."

I take several deep breaths, and look up. I frown. At the top of the stairs, a little face is staring at me. I take a few steps forward, and identify it as a little girl with blonde locks. When I reach the staircase, she backs away hurriedly.

"Hey, wait!" I say, hurrying up the stairs.

When I reach the top, I see her sitting in the corner. All the lights are off. I search around the wall beside me, find the switch, and flip it on. The girl's cheeks glitter in the light with recent tears.

"Hi, uhm ... " I start. I never really liked children, but I have to keep my cool if I'm going to get any answers out of her. I'd rather endure this than the horrific scene downstairs. "What's your name?"

She doesn't answer, and I feel the faintest hint of annoyance, but I force myself to remain calm. If I was in her situation, I wouldn't want to talk either.

"My name is ... Lily Clyde," I say, remembering just in time my fake ID, "I work with the FBI. That means that I'm here to help you. Ok? If you tell me what you saw, maybe we can find your mother."

She just shakes her head. Keep calm, I tell myself. I remember what the officer outside told us.

"You really think it was a mermaid that took your mother?" I whisper. She nods. "I believe you, you know."

She looks up at me, eyes wide, and speaks for the first time, "You do?"

"I do," I say. "I also thought that's what it was, but my friend didn't want to believe me. Now, with you as my witness, I can convice him. Do you think you can tell me exactly what happened?"

Back at the motel, Dean tells us that his vics' neighbours heard a noise and thought there was a robbery. That's what they reported. But when the cops got there, they saw the hole and there was no one inside the house.

"We have a little bit more," Sam says, "Three people lived in the house. Layla Jefferson, her sister Jane, and Jane's seven year old daughter, Kaylee. According to the police, Kaylee saw everything and called them. When they got there, Layla was on the ground in the kitchen, already dead, and Jane was missing. But Kaylee refused to talk, so that's all we got."

"Actually," I say, "It's not. I got Kaylee to talk, and she was vigilant that it was a mermaid-"

"A mermaid?" Dean cuts across me. "Seriously? She's friggin seven years old. Of course she'll say something like that."

"Let me finish talking, dammit!" I say. I take a deep breath, "She said that her mother was overweight - just like all the other vics - and earlier, there was a crack in the wall with water leaking out of it. Jane was busy making Kaylee hot chocolate and Layla was making eggs for all of them. When Jane got near the crack, hands burst out of them. They were fair-skinned and beautiful hands - according to Kaylee. Layla panicked and hit one of the arms with the white-hot pan, and a fish tail burst out of the wall, hitting her to the side of her face and killing her in the process. Kaylee said that, just after her mother was wrenched inside the wall, she saw another, smaller tail, and a soft voice that said 'you will become strong, my love'."

I look at the three people in front of me, perfectly aware that they were scared for my mental health that I believed the little girl's story.

"You honestly think we're hunting a mermaid?" Dean asks after several long, awkward moments, "A _mermaid_?"

"Come on, Lil, that's a little far-fetched," Chris says, glancing at Dean, who smiles faintly.

"You're only saying that because you agree with everything Dean says!" I say, outraged, "Come on, guys! Why is this so hard for you to believe?"

"You don't want me to answer that," Dean says, "Anyway, I'm gonna hit the sack. See you all in the morning."

He gets up and leaves the room, and Sam follows. I tremble with anger. If they would just listen, more people needn't get hurt! Not saying anything, not even a good night wish to Chris, I fall down on the bed and fall into an uneasy sleep.

When I wake up the following morning, there is barely any sunlight. A look at the clock on the bedside cabinet tell me that it is only 7 a.m.

I'll make them see that I'm telling the truth, I tell myself.

I get up as quietly as I can, sneak out of our room, into Sam and Dean's, nearly falling over due to jelly-legs when I see that Sam is not wearing a shirt and the blanket exposes half his torso. I grab his laptop and then sneak out of the room again. I go back to our room and sit down on my bed with the computer on my lap.

I go through all the murders and supposed accidental deaths in the town right up until the early 1800's. It takes me a very long time to see the pattern, but eventually I do, and not a moment too soon. Chris wakes up with a groan, and just as I'm about to tell her what I know, there are several, rather loud, knocks on the door, and Sam enters. He takes a look at the computer on my lap.

"Don't freak out, don't freak out!" I tell him, "I'm sorry I took it without asking you, but I cracked it, ok? I cracked the case."

"This better be good," he says, obviously annoyed out of his skin.

"Ok, lookit," I say, "I went as far back as 1863. Since then, there's been a string of murders. In '63, there were four. In '88 there were only two. In 1913 there were four, in '38 there were three, in '63 there were two, in '88 there were five, and this year, five so far. You see? Every twenty-five years, there's a string of murders, the exact same kind that we've encountered now, but each time there was a twenty-five year gap, so nobody bothered to look at the pattern. I also did more research on mermaids-"

"Oh, good God," Dean says, who had just entered the room, standing alongside Sam.

"Not with the mermaids again, Lil," Chris says. I ignore both of them.

"According to the last three hours' worth of research, there are merfolk living nearby, but not very many," I say, "Every twenty-five years, they mate, and they get merbabies. Don't ask how, I haven't figured that out yet. Anyway, the kin needs a lot of nutrients during the first few months, so the parents travel via the pipes, get a few fat people for them: lots of meat, skin and fat to make a merbaby strong. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"You're just sticking to that out of obsessed stubbornness," Sam says, "Give me back my computer and quit it with this mermaid crap, all right?"

"Moreover," I say deliberately, "There have been supposed mermaid sightings for decades, every time at Collins Cove right here in Salem. And the only way to kill a mermaid is to stab her in the heart with a flaming dagger made of real silver."

"Oh, just cut it out," Dean says, walking forward and taking the laptop from me. "I want a freakin bacon-cheese burger, and I heard there's a stand the best of those at Collins Cove Park."

"You're going to go there after I just told you-"

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna pretend that I didn't hear a word you just said," he cuts in, exiting the room. Sam follows.

"Thank you for defending me," I tell Chris sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, ok? But, there kinda wasn't much to defend ..."

"Screw you," I say angrily, getting dressed. We go downstairs, meet the brothers there and drive to the park.

It is a beautifully sunny day, so the park is buzzing with activity. Children are running around, groups of adults are talking and laughing together, several of them overweight...

"Just drop it," Sam tells me, as though reading my mind. I roll my eyes at them and accept the burger Dean bought for each of us. Sam only buys a bottle of water for himself. Health freak.

We sit down on the grass, enjoying the sunlight. I watch the people running into the beach for a swim, and something catches my eye. A woman, only her head and shoulders visible above the water. She is beautiful: more stunning than any model could ever dream to be. She has pitch black hair and sparkling blue eyes that I can see even from this distance. But she is not looking at me. I follow her gaze to an extremely fat woman who is playing in the water with a small boy.

"Sam, look over there," I say softly, deliberately glancing at the woman.

"What?" he asks.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I ask.

"Yes, she is. What about it?"

"Almost too beautiful to be human, don't you think?"

He simply sighs.

"Just look, Sam, really take it in," I say. "She's not even moving. It's only the waves carrying her. No human can stay a constant amount above the surface and look as though they're really just floating. Look at how she's looking at that woman. It looks as though she's waiting for the perfect moment to attack."

"And why would she do that in the middle of the day, in a crowded, public park?"

"Maybe she had more younglings than she expected, and the people she killed already aren't enough for all of them," I suggest.

"I think you're getting a little too obsessed over this mermaid theory of yours," he tells me, but he continues looking at the woman.

"From what I've seen of you two, Dean is always the stubborn one. You always considered the impossible theories, and they've been true more times than false," I say.

"This is different."

"How?" I ask, turning my head for the first time to look at him. He doesn't answer. "I would have loved if we were hunting a group of midget clowns."

"How did-"

"I would love to see those chasing you. I'd totally take a video, and put it on YouTube with the headline 'Sam Winchester Chased By Midget Clowns, His Biggest Fear'-"

"All right, you've made your point," he says.

The fat woman and her son had, in this time, gone deeper into the water. It looks as though she's teaching him to swim. The beautiful woman had disappeared. Frowning, I get up and start walking toward the water.

"What is she up to now?" I hear Dean ask dejectedly.

I continue walking, edging sideways to get a better view, looking around the fat woman for some sign.

"Come on, where are you?" I say softly.

Suddenly, I see a flash of silver fins not five feet from the fat woman. Panic-stricken, my heart starts pounding furiously. I kick off my sandals and start running into the water.

"Lilliana, what are you doing?" I hear Sam shout at me.

"Ma'am!" I shout at the fat woman. Several other people look in my direction for a moment before carrying on with their own business. The fat woman turns and looks at me. "Ma'am, please get out of the water immediately."

"Why?" she asks with a frown just as I reach her, standing on the tip of my toes.

"Please, just listen to me," I say, "I am undercover. My name is Special Agent Clyde, FBI. Please, get out of the water."

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know you didn't," I say, "I just need to get you out of the water immediately. You are in danger. Please, listen to me."

She hesitates, looking at her son.

One moment too long.

There is another flash of silver two feet from me, right under the surface of the water. I am blinded, and I start groping for the fat woman. Instead, there is a massive splash and I touch something slippery. I grap hold as hard as I can. There is a loud screech from under the water, and the fat woman is gone. The boy she was holding starts sinking. I grab him by the collar and pull him up.

People all around me cried out at the splash, looking at each other with confused expressions.

"Everyone, out of the water now!" I yell. People slowly start making for the shore just as I hear Sam and Dean call for everyone to get out of the water, as well. "Come on, move it!"

The boy in my arms starts crying for his mother. My ears start ringing. The moment I reach dry sand, I put him down, take my sandals and hold up my other hand in Dean's face when I reach him, where three big, silver scales glimmer in the sunlight.

"If you had just listened to me, this wouldn't have happened!" I growl at Dean, who has wide eyes from surprise and confusion. I throw two of the scales at his feet and, with the other still in my hand, start storming to the car.

"Ok, we're canning this bitch," I hear Dean say.


	6. Chapter 6

**~*~ Chapter 6 - Flaming Silver Dagger ~*~**

Sam's POV.

"I ordered these the moment we got to the motel this afternoon," I tell Dean, taking two silver daggers from inside a black bag.

"So, flaming dagger," Dean says, examining it from every angle, "I assume we just dip it in oil and set it on fire?"

"Seems like it," I say.

He closes his eyes and looks down, speaking softly, "Cas, if you can hear us, please come here. We really need your help."

I look around. Nothing. So that's it then. We're going to attack something without actually knowing where it is, what it's powers are or how many of it there is.

"You cannot expect me to come running to you every time you need something, Dean."

I look around. Cas is standing there, solemn as ever, looking at Dean with a little disappointment.

"Yeah, alright, but we gotta-"

"You might want to go back to your motel," Cas interrupts. "Your friends are in danger."

"What?" I ask.

"Well, zap there and go help them!" Dean says.

"I have problems of my own that I need to sort out," he replies simply, "The creature you are hunting is on its way to the motel, but you should arrive there in time. Go."

He disappears. I look at Dean and, my heart pounding, we get into the Impala and Dean steps on it. We rush back to the motel, not saying a word, hoping that we get there in time.

Lilliana's POV.

Sam and Dean dumped us again the moment they were sure it was safe to go hunt the mermaid. Sam left me his laptop, but I am growing bored with it. I have exhausted almost every entertaining component of the web that I know of, so much so that I have reserved to playing the online virtual Harry Potter game, . Chris is lying on her bed flipping through magazines.

"Hey, do you think Dean will ever get over that chick he dated, the one he lived with after Sam went to hell?"

"Ben's mother?" I ask, also unable to remember her name, "I suppose so, eventually. But seriously, dude, don't fall for him too much. He's too old for you, and we're probably going back home after tonight, after they kill the mermaid."

"What the hell?"

"What?" I say, looking up at her. She is looking at the wall. I follow her gaze. "Oh, dear God ..."

There is a small crack, gradually growing bigger. Water gently leaks from it.

"Get away from the walls," I say, getting up.

We stand in the middle of the room, staring at the crack. We hear a strange hissing from inside the walls. Panicking, I start looking around the room for potential weapons, but there is nothing. Sam and Dean did not leave us anything, for fear of us sneaking out to go and help them.

Something catches my eye. The cutlery we used to eat earlier. It's the best shot we've got.

Water stops leaking from the crack in the wall. I stare at it.

"Maybe-"

"Don't," I interrupt, "They're just trying to trick us."

"I don't hear anything moving," she says softly.

"Of course you wouldn't, that would ruin their trick," I snap.

The crack in the wall begins to stretch wider. My muscles tighten with fear. I take deep breaths, trying to stay calm as I edge toward the bed where our plates are still lying. There is a scrape of nails against metal. I grab both of the knives.

It all happens so fast. Just as I straighten up with the knives in hand, the wall bursts open and two creatures come out of it, at the same time that the door bursts open and Sam and Dean enter.

Without thinking, the creatures attack the brothers. In my frozen state of fear and the brothers distracting them, I have a moment to acknowledge the creatures' beauty.

It is a man and a woman, both with black hair, but the man has green eyes where the woman has blue. It is the same woman that I saw in the sea this afternoon. Even with their fishtails, they evade the brothers' attacks almost effortlessly, more like snakes than fish.

I regain myself, and just in time. Just as the male is about to stab Sam with the end of his spear, I lift up my hands and stab it in the tale with both the knives. It shrieks, and I cover my ears with my palms just as Sam takes the flaming dagger in his hand and stabs it in the heart. It freezes for a moment, but then its skin seems to rot a little and it falls over. The tail squiggles for another moment before going still.

"Wait, please!" the woman cries just as Dean is about to stab here. She has a strange accent, one that I have never heard before, but it is beautiful. "I am just trying to protect my family!"

"Dean, stop," Sam says. Dean lowers his dagger, but he does not lower his guard.

"You're trying to protect your family by killing us?" Chris asks softly from the corner. I had not noticed her backing away from the battle. She was sitting in the corner, hugging herself, but now she got up.

"One of my babies got sick," the mermaid stays, using her tail to 'stand' upright and tower over us, even over Sam, "That is why I took the woman in the water. If my baby did not get enough fresh meat, he would have died. I apologise for everyone's loss, but I did not have a choice. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry lady, but you're a threat to my race," Dean says, lifting his dagger again.

"Dean!" I say, slapping his other hand. He glares at me angrily. I ignore him and look at the mermaid, "How many of you are there?"

"Only my family," she says, "You killed my husband now, so it is only me and my three children. All of them are all right now, so we will not kill anyone-"

"For twenty-five years," I say, "I'm sorry, but that is not acceptable."

"Listen to me," she begs, lowering herself and coming forward to look me straight in the eye, "I attack people who live unhealthy lives, who will die soon anyway. I need their flesh to feed my younglings. Humans do the same. Do you not eat some form of meat every day? You wrench pigs and chickens and cows from their families, only the big ones because they offer the most meat, and because that meat offers nutrients that your bodies need. I am doing the same. Only during the first weeks do my children need fresh meat. Thereafter they can eat anything. Some of my cousins even live off different sea grasses. Please, just let us go."

"We can't do that," Dean says, predictably.

"And why is that?" I snap.

"They kill people, and they just reproduce wherever they go!" Dean says.

"Well, there are enough Hunters like you out there to ensure they don't become too many!" I say angrily, "Let her go!"

"They're monsters!"

"Not much more than your vampire friend, or your angel friend, for that matter!"

"Don't pretend to be such a smart-ass-"

"Listen to me," I tell the mermaid while Dean rambles on, "Grab your children and leave this town. Never stay in one place too long. Leave false trails in certain places so that the Hunters cannot track you. Go. Now!"

"Thank you," she says.

Dean is about to strike at her when she slithers out of the room with her husband's corpse dragged in one hand. Dean aims at the wall just as she enters it, and throws the knife. He misses the end of her tail by and inch, and then lets out a roar of anger.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" he roars at me. I feel my heart pounding. It's one thing seeing him yelling on the TV, but he's scary as hell standing right in front of me.

"Dean," Sam says softly, "Just let it go, alright?"

Dean glares at his brother, then at me, and storms out of the room. Chris trails after him. I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair.

"You did good just now," Sam tells me, "A little reckless, but good. And you practically solved the case by yourself."

"Don't give me credit," I say, "I know that you agree with Dean deep down."

"Maybe," he says, shrugging, "You still kinda saved my life just now."

"Kinda?" I say, staring at him. He chuckles.

"Try to get some sleep, ok? We'll have to disappear early tomorrow morning to avoid having to face the repairs for this," he says, nudging his head in the direction of the wall. I smile.

Knowing that I would most probably never get another chance like this, I step forward and wrap my arms around his slender waist. For a moment, he is frozen, and I feel my face heat up. Just as I am about to pull away again, however, he hugs me back.

"You've grown on me, you know?" he says. I snort.

"Like Garth?"

He laughs, "Not quite like Garth."

I let go again, freezing when he kisses me on the forehead before exiting the room. I smile.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washes over me. I overexerted both my body and my mind, especially in the last few minutes. I place the plates on the floor and fall down on the bed, instantly falling asleep.

I do not open my eyes immediately. My whole body aches. I stretch. I hear Chris's wake-up yawn and open my eyes.

We're in her bedroom.

She looks at me, disappointment painted all over her face.

"Was I dreaming?" I ask, more to myself. Her face breaks into a smile, and she shakes her head.  
_

**A/N:** So yeah, that's it. Thanks to everyone for reading. I know it's short, but hopefully it was enjoyable. Reviews are always welcome, even flames, as long as they are valid.

If you like my writing style, check out some of my other fics. I might start some more in the coming weeks, because I don't really have that many. In the meantime, if you want, you can check out my artworks on .com ... my pen name there is also MaliciousMoanna. Until the next story.

XD


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